Intoxicated
by imaginexthat
Summary: Hermione and Tom realize that some secrets are not worth knowing; some words are better left unsaid. One shot.


Disclaimer: Everything is JKR's. I just love to stretch my imagination.

A/N: First part is Tom's POV, the second is Hermione's.

* * *

Tom clenched his jaw and furrowed his brows. How could this new student know about a secret passage from the school to Hogsmeade? He knew more secrets of the castle than anyone. Only he was supposed to know about secret passages. Many students had known about one or two. Tom caught many of them using these routes under his very nose, and he did not appreciate rule-breaking. So, he obliviated them all. He was rather possessive of Hogwarts castle. His home. Its secrets belonged to him.

Tom had not used any of the secret tunnels since this girl arrived. Yet, she knew one. Maybe more.

He followed Hermione from Honeydukes Sweetshop to The Hog's Head. It was difficult since she was using the invisibility cloak. A cloak Tom had never seen before.

Tom was assigned to patrol the hallways that night. He was almost ready to go back to his dorm when he had a strong whiff of a girl's perfume, followed by the sound of pattering feet. He followed the scent until he reached the hump-backed one-eyed witch metal statue by the stairs. Tom had a fleeting glimpse of the prowler's face as the cloak slid down her shoulders when she pointed her wand at the statue. He heard her intone "Dissendium" before she disappeared. The witch's hump opened for a long moment then closed again.

Tom could not recall ever meeting her outside of class, except during mealtimes in the Great Hall. He barely saw her in the library. If not for her wild hair and her unusual but obviously muggle first name, he wouldn't even remember her face at all. He knew all the names of the students, remembered all who were mudbloods. She had questionable academic skills for which she earned her Hufflepuff house points. She kept mostly to herself, always somber to the point of boring. She did not interest him until now.

This girl was up to no good. And he will put her in her place. He's Head Boy, and will not let anyone outsmart him.

* * *

Hermione stalked the cobbled streets, confident yet cautious. She had removed the invisibility cloak as soon as she emerged from the shadows. From the moment Tom lifted his own disillusion spell, he had to slow down and pause at alleyways and corners to evade discovery.

Hermione entered the dingy pub, The Hog's Head. Tom secured the hood over his head, and moved in a few minutes later.

He chose a table at the farthest end of the bar. He snuffed out the candle on his table, and was almost engulfed in darkness. Hermione's table was at a corner near the entryway near a large window. There was no one else but the bartender. She looked at Tom briefly, before she continued her conversation with the barman.

"_**I assure you, I am of age. I have money. I want firewhiskey. Please."**_ She sounded desperate and nervous. As the bar owner left her to take Tom's order, he felt her scrutiny for a good minute.

This barman knew better than to ask him questions. Strange people come here all the time. Shady people. He lowered his voice. _**"Mead, please." **_Tom didn't really drink. He refused to be under the influence of anything. He kept his mind clear at all times. He had been here only once before, but he preferred this to The Three Broomsticks, which was rowdy. Here you could be a professor or a snotty goblin or a dark wizard and nobody would care. Unless you're a young woman, then you're automatically prim and prude, then The Hog's Head is not the place to be at night.

He saw Hermione downed the firewhiskey quickly. She ordered another and drained it just as fast. Tom was disappointed. She was here to get drunk? What was she trying to forget? Or who?

When he brought the third bottle, the barman addressed her. _**"Miss, I don't know how you got here, but it's past midnight. Where's your husband? Did you have a row with him?" **_

She snorted as she glanced out the window. _**"No husband. I can take care of myself. Don't need anyone."**_

"_**A runaway then?"**_ Tom sipped his wine slowly. He had heard rumors that this strange girl had recently escaped a terrible fate. She was orphaned as a result of the war in France against the dark wizard Grindelwald. Hogwarts had been too generous to have taken in a mudblood. But she had nowhere to go, for everyone she knew perished. Tom never tried to validate her story. He could care less. Tom was no gossip. He had more important pursuits in mind. She was a recluse and that was that.

"_**Just needed air, is all."**_ Hermione looked abashed. As she examined the man before him, the expression on her face changed to one of dawning realization.

"_**You're Aberforth. O-Of course, you look like Albus."**_ Tom didn't expect this. The deputy headmaster seemed to have witheld this important piece of personal information from the school. He would have to investigate this later. But how did she know his name?

Their voices carried across the tavern. The barman whipped his head in Tom's direction, but found him staring at his glass of mead.

"_**I won't tell anyone, I swear."**_ Tom leaned forward slightly as the girl whispered. _**"Please, let me stay awhile." **_She grasped her almost empty bottle, regarding it with longing._**" I was just overwhelmed with memories tonight. You see, it's my birthday today, and it got a little too depressing. I really did not want to be there with all those giggling, nosy, girls who could not take the hint that I wanted to be alone. I had to get away."**_

Aberforth decided to leave Hermione for a while. She had started sniffing and was constantly wiping her cheeks. When he returned, he had brought her what looked like a cup of tea. She shook her head.

_**"You misunderstand. I need my firewhiskey. I need to remember, I must celebrate. Just one more."**_

That one bottle led to her fifth, and by then she had become increasingly chatty. She tried to ask Aberforth personal questions, but she was met with polite silence. He sat down in front of her, however, and almost occluded Tom's view.

"_**Whatever is bothering you, child?"**_ Aberforth did not sound concerned, but aggravated. Hermione sighed, then wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"_**Oh, just the fact that I'm not supposed to be here. I mean here in this…I mean I belong somewhere else entirely. I should be helping Harry. I'm his best friend. What will he do without me? How will he win the war without my help?"**_

"_**You mean he's fighting against Grindelwald?" **_

"_**No, no, no. That's Dumbledore's war. Albus can take care of Grindelwald all by himself. **__**No. I'm talking about the Dark Wizard after Grindelwald, Voldem-"**_

Tom had accidentally broken his wineglass but neither noticed. He ammended the damage with a wave of his hand. He regarded her with incredulity, but he could not deny the chill her words brought him.

"_**There's another? Woman, you are drunk, and you've lost all reason." **_Aberforth seemed to have lost interest as he rose up to leave.

Hermione flailed her arms. _**"No, he's not a dark wizard yet. He's just seventeen right now. But,…Wait,**_ _**wait…Hermione, what are you doing? Merlin!"**_ She pulled the ends of her unruly hair with both hands and looked at Aberforth guiltily. She was speechless, with a look of consternation on her face.

Tom did not know what to make of the girl. Did she really know him? Could she see the future? He had hoped her insobriety would lead to more revelations. She could validate his impending triumphs. He had to know.

**_"I-I have to go."_** He detected a quiver in her voice.

As Hermione suddenly stood up, she was apparently hit by a wave of vertigo for she suddenly bent over to spill her guts' contents on the floor. Aberforth assisted her back on her chair, for she was visibly sweaty and shaken. He gave her the tea, while he banished the mess on the floor.

As Aberforth was contemplating on what to do with the girl, Tom felt it was time to make his move. In an instant he was by her table.

"_**I know this…girl. I will escort her back."**_

Aberforth appraised him skeptically. Tom removed his hood. Even in the dim light, the barman recognized him as a student. _**"I will have your headmaster know that one of his students…"**_ Tom was wise to anticipate this.

"_**Obliviate."**_ Just how far back he has forgotten Tom didn't care. He grabbed Hermione forcefully by the elbow, pulling her up.

She blurted out, aghast, _**"What have you done? Merlin! He's…a good man…innocent…"**_

Tom scoffed. He was tempted to say that he obliviated people all the time. Like the girl his lackey Abraxas Malfoy almost raped. Or the mudbloods that were victims of hexes and curses from his pureblood-infested Slytherin House. Anyone who by accident chanced upon his secret meetings with his knights of Walpurgis. Tom did not trust anyone. He could count on a good curse more than he could people.

Tom did not owe her an explanation. She, on the other hand...

"_**We will continue this conversation somewhere else." **_

He took her invisibility cloak and her wand when they reached the front exit. He sneered at her appearance, staggering and swaying, too sickly to glare at him, forlorn and resigned.

"_**I hate you."**_ A weak protest. Tom will enjoy crushing her already fragile spirit. The night will prove interesting indeed.

* * *

Hermione was painfully, annoyingly reminded of her own wand pointed against her back as they trudged through another secret passageway. She was not certain whether her wand had changed loyalties since Tom confiscated it, but she didn't want to risk a hex from Voldemort.

This tunnel seemed newly created and they had walked about an hour that started under the porch of a bookshop in Hogsmeade.

Hermione was surprised that they had exited this tunnel through a thick silvery mist, and that they had reached the fourth floor corridor of the castle. She noted that the mist was a mirror. She gave a soft cry as Tom emerged through it as if it were liquid, distorting her reflection. She held out her hand and the mirror felt solid. Hermione recalled Harry mentioning that this passage had already caved in during their third year. She gave a yelp as Tom grappled her arm to get her attention. His voice was low and even, his countenance menacing.

"_**I know five of the passages leading to Hogsmeade. I am not aware of the one winding up at Honeydukes' cellar. The one you used. Who told you?"**_

Hermione remembered that the seventh passage wouldn't be created until the Marauders' era, but the Honeydukes route was the most closely guarded secret. She felt like she had betrayed the Marauders, and Harry.

"_**I won't tell if you won't, Riddle. It'll be our little secret. Look," **_she spat,_**"it's very late. May I have my wand back?"**_

He suddenly released his grip, causing her to stumble back. He eyed her condescendingly while gently tapping her wand on his palm, like a schoolteacher. _**"What do you think about telling Professor Dippett what you've been up to tonight? How about explaining to Madam Opferkuch why you reek of alcohol? You're smart, your housemates say. How would you explain yourself and maintain your innocence?"**_

Hermione scowled. She could get suspended. Hogwarts had been her home since she had left it more than fifty years into the future. She had nowhere to run to. There is a war outside the walls of the school. A war that will end without her help. She preferred to finish her seventh year this time, even if the education were backward compared to what she knew. Even if she was no longer underaged, she wanted to become a witch, a validated one.

"_**How uncouth. But then, you're a mudblood. I should not be surprised."**_

What is with this fascination with blood that seem to follow her everywhere she goes? She wanted to find humor in it, but she felt nauseated. She wanted to vomit on his robes, but the urge had passed.

"_**An unpopular girl involved in such a scandal..." **_She didn't know where his rambling was leading to, but she was well aware of the headache he was giving her.

"_**I don't care, Riddle." **_Tom looked unconvinced.

"_**You do, Hermione. You have to."**_

Before Hermione realized what was happening, Tom had wrapped her with the invisibility cloak. He dragged her to the stairway, one arm over her shoulder pulling her bodily against him, the other jabbing her side with the wand to quiet her down. He was almost a head taller, she noted. Hermione was almost thankful for the support for otherwise she would have lost her balance and fallen. She tried to ignore his scent of pine and sweat.

They had reached the seventh floor and stopped in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Tom removed the cloak and pocketed it quickly. _**"Extraordinary cloak, Hermione. Potential weapon. You are full of surprises."**_ It was not an endearment.

Hermione leaned against the stone wall. She felt sick, more because she was defenseless. He's headboy, he had witnessed her break several school rules. He could find despicable ways to teach her a lesson. He looked so beautiful and perfect that no one would think he was capable of doing anything vile. She could run, but she could not escape him.

**_"Tom?"_**

They both turned to the speaker who was strutting towards them. Hermione knew Malfoys are alike; silvery blonde, handsome, affluent, purebloods.

_**"Isn't this the mudblood transfer? What is the meaning of this, Tom? We were wondering where you've gone! And you were playing with the mudblood in there? Now, that's not fair, Tom."**_

Malfoy scrutinized Hermione's flushed face.

_**"You got her drunk? Are you desperate? You could easily Imperio her, or some other Unforgivable. Up close, though, can't deny she looked quite pretty..."**_

Hermione was brave, but the gall of this boy unnerved her. If there's anything scarier than a young Voldemort with a vision, it's a teenaged lewd Malfoy on a mission. She tried to slug him but her reflexes betrayed her. Malfoy easily blocked her. She managed to mar his cheek before he held her hands with one of his own. He touched her hair, and laughed at her struggles. He glimpsed at Tom, aware of the latter's approval. He drew out his wand and pointed it at her neck.

Hermione's heart was racing, her eyes bulging. She didn't want this. She held her breath for a spell...

_**"Obliviate."**_

Malfoy stilled, his wand hand suspended in air.

_**"Abraxas, you didn't see us here. You saw me head to my dormitory after eleven last night. You did not go to the seventh floor. You only remember getting back to bed at past midnight."**_

Not finished with him yet, Tom said in a low, smooth voice, _**"Imperio. Put your wand away, Abraxas. Go to your dorm and do not talk to anyone. Do not attempt to look at your memories. Go to bed, Abraxas. Go."**_

Abraxas did as he was instructed. Hermione stared at his face. It was expressionless, except for a slight narrowing of the eyes. He walked away towards the stairway without looking back, his gait slow and calculated.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She looked at Tom, who still had his wand pointed at where Malfoy had gone. He turned to glare at her as he backed a few steps away to face the blank stone wall.

Tom paced back and forth three times. When he stopped, a door appeared. He opened it and shoved Hermione inside before he shut it behind him.

The room was bare except for two chairs and a table on which sat a candelabrum, the only light source in the room. One chair was a comfortable, hunter green leather armchair. The other was reminiscent of the chair at the courtroom of the Ministry of Magic with its high back, uncomfortably hard seat, its large metal chains threatening to clamp the unfortunate seater.

She was pushed to the chair and was immediately chained to it.

"_**Isn't this a bit extreme, Riddle? Really, what have I done to you? Worried about being bested by a**_ _**mudblood?"**_ Her heart was pounding, her hands were trembling, but her voice was firm. And she thought he had saved her. Saved her for a fate worse, obviously.

Tom placed her wand on the table, walked over to his comfortable chair, sat calmly, and studied her quietly for a moment.

"_**Let's not take all night, Hermione. You don't intimidate me. Not at all. Not even impressed. Firstly, you're a girl. You're not even attractive. Secondly, you're magically challenged. You're not good enough."**_

She fumed. Why does she feel like she has to explain herself, defend herself? He's the scum! She may be intimidated by him, but she is sure as hell not magically challenged. He doesn't know a thing about her. If he had given her her wand she would've shown him someone to be intimidated about. He never played fair. The more she struggled, the more tightly the chains held her.

"_**I haven't given you a thought until now. I've heard everything you said at The Hog's Head. I**_ _**am very curious."**_ Tom stared at the Gaunt ring on his finger before refocusing on her. _**"I never saw you near the dungeons except during Potions class. You've only been here a few weeks. You talk little, even to your pathetic, friendly housemates. Yet, you seem to know me." **_He leaned forward, a grim expression on his angelic face.

_**"I encourage you to share what's on your mind, Hermione. Knowledge such as yours is a waste if you don't share it."**_

Hermione looked away as she debated whether to tell Tom the truth or lie her way around it. She tried hard not to get noticed by Voldemort of all people. She never walked the hallways alone, never frequented the library after dinner. The hardest part was dumbing herself down. She had chosen Hufflepuff House to avoid attention. Yet he noticed her. Looking back on it, this was all her fault. If she hadn't gotten herself drunk, if she had spent more time finding a way to get back to Harry in the future...

"_**Who is Harry, Hermione? Where is he?"**_ She bit her lip, hesitant, trying to prevent another blunder. She reluctantly, slowly turned her face to him.

"_**Harry is my boyfriend. He's fighting this war…against Grindelwald." **_At this response, Tom stood up abruptly, and took a step towards her.

"_**Tell the truth or I can find another way to get it that will leave you trembling in pain, wanting to die, or**_ _**giving in to madness."**_ He extracted his wand from his robes while his gaze never left her.

"_**You don't scare me, Riddle. The Cruciatus leaves aftereffects that can't be masked."**_ She tentatively looked at the ceiling.

Tom exhaled softly as he observed her dispassionately. He concentrated and without warning, Hermione felt a splitting headache. Her Occlumens skill was up to par, but her intoxicated state was hindering her from maintaining shields strong enough to withstand Tom's fierce Legilimens. She saw him sneer as he immersed himself in her memories.

Tom was ruthless as he looked at one memory after another. He didn't care what they meant to her. It took all of Hermione's willpower to finally push him out. But not before Tom had found his answers.

Tom looked dazed. Confused, surprised, Hermione couldn't tell. It was probably not what he expected. He should be pleased. He always gets the upper-hand.

"_**The young boy with the glasses is Harry. He's duelling a man who has a snake-like face. Is he…"**_ His voice was deceptively soft.

Hermione felt numb. As she stared at the ceiling, she closed her eyes to rid of the tears. She shook her head in trepidation and shame. Bowing her head, she muttered, _**"I'm so sorry, Harry…I failed…You don't deserve this…I wanted to…I'm trying, but…" **_She shivered. She never felt more alone.

"_**What are you talking about?"**_ Tom was either curious or annoyed, or possibly remotely concerned, but Hermione barely registered his words. She was only aware of her anger as she balled her fists, and narrowed her eyes at him as more tears fell.

"_**You might as well kill me! I am of no use to anyone! Least of all to Harry! Let me go, Riddle. I will leave this castle and you will never hear from me again. Do whatever you want, I don't care. Be Voldemort, take over the world. Kill me or I swear you'll regret it if you don't!"**_

Before Tom could contemplate on her words, Hermione's angry gaze turned upward.

"_**As for you, you were created with this castle, this castle for magical children! Why can't you protect them within these walls? Screw you! In the name of the founders, release me and let me leave this room unharmed by this twit!"**_

When Hermione finished her embittered rant, the chains uncoiled from her. The chair disappeared as she stood up. The room became more illuminated and less forbidding. She collected her wand on the table hastily and disarmed Tom before he could process what happened.

"_**Oblivi-"**_

Before she could finish the spell, Tom caught her wand wrist and drew her to him. His other hand pulled her hair back, exposing her neck to him. He looked livid. He was almost devouring her with his eyes. Hermione felt like melting just looking back at him. He was so close she could see the specks of blue in his piercing grey eyes, almost see a little color in his cheeks, almost tempted to brush away the wavy black hair that had fallen on his forehead…

Tom looked at her lips before he met her gaze. _**"Who are you?"**_ His voice hoarse, his breath warming her face.

Hermione almost sober, gulped, then blinked, before she whispered. _**"I'm Hermione Granger. And you can't touch me."**_ She gathered all her strength to do one thing. The thing that made Tom release her as he doubled over, hissing in pain.

He failed to notice the lack of hatred in her eyes. Hermione pointed her wand at Tom as she backed away.

_**"I almost thought you were...interesting**__**, Riddle. You'll regret the day you let me live. The good news is, you can keep your school. I want none of it. The bad news is, you'll never be the greatest sorcerer in the world. Not in history. Get used to it, Riddle."**_

She muttered a spell, and he was too surprised or helpless to stop it. Her eyes wandered to the walls of the bare room. As if in answer, a door appeared. She glanced at Tom, whose piercing grey eyes read pain or malice or both. He had regained composure but made no move, however.

Hermione hoped Tom did not see her fear as she let herself out of the Room of Requirement. Her fear that she could not do the right thing anymore.

_"Never hate your enemies. It affects your judgment." **- ****Mario Puzo**_


End file.
